


till i'm out of luck

by rumpledlinen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Songwriting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:31:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2278500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumpledlinen/pseuds/rumpledlinen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam and Louis, writing music together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	till i'm out of luck

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [till i'm out of luck](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3868054) by [AvaDay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaDay/pseuds/AvaDay)



> this is HORRIFICALLY FLUFFY, and cheesy, and liam and louis wrote an ot5 song together. this was written in a day and turned out very differently to what i intended, but i do quite like it. lilo, the forever love of my life. 
> 
> title from fireproof, obviously. 
> 
> also, just as a warning: there's (barely-there) nick/harry. i didn't tag it because it's really barely-there. 
> 
> i'm also on tumblr at guillotineheart, and twitter at doinwhatwedo :)

It’s four in the morning, and Louis is exhausted. 

He turns to Liam, eyes half-shut, pen falling from where he’d balanced it on his nose. “Want to call it a night?” he asks, quiet. The rest of the boys are asleep around them, collapsed on various surfaces. 

Liam shakes his head, the fucker. He’s sat with his knees pulled to his chest, a notebook balanced on them. “It should be right,” he says. 

Louis snorts. “We can fix it tomorrow, you know.”

Liam hums the bridge again, eyebrows furrowed. 

Louis sighs. Sometimes, it’s as though Liam refuses to listen to him. (Some might call him a hypocrite. Some might be wrong.) 

“I don’t want this to be a love song,” Liam says, running a hand through his hair and setting the notebook to the side. “You know? I’m a little sick of love songs, f’I’m honest.”

“I know,” Louis says. He does. This isn’t the first time they’ve talked about this, the first time Liam’s wanted to do something different, mate, you know? “Might be hard to convince people of that, though, when you’ve got lines like nobody loves you, baby, the way I do.” He’s not sure which of them had come up with that line, but every time he hears it now it’s like a punch in the gut. 

“It’s true, though,” Liam grumbles. “It’s not--god. Not about love. Not like that.”

Louis nods, eyes falling shut again, and he breathes out an, “I know, darling,” before he falls asleep, barely registering Liam walking over to him, a light brush of a hand on his shoulder.

He wakes up, and he’s curled against Liam on the floor, arm over his stomach.

He doesn’t press a kiss to the side of his neck, but it’s a close thing. 

*

They write in the middle of the night like that, sometimes, and then others it’s the middle of the day and they’ve got all the time in the world, and Liam’s chewing on his pen and tapping out a beat on his knees and he’s got ink around his mouth, and Louis loves it, this, most of all.

He loves being a performer but he’s been doing this for years, and this songwriting thing is new, it’s new and it’s nice, him and Liam sitting outside with their feet in a pool, the notebooks neither of them will ever let go sitting between them.

They handwrite everything until they’ve got a workable draft. Niall thinks it’s silly, but Harry at least gets it. He’s got his notebook of his own songs, and love letters to Nick (not that Louis would look without permission; they get so little privacy, he’s not taking any of Harry’s away). 

The only important thing, when Louis is writing, is that Liam’s there. He doesn’t do well on his own, can’t come up with metaphors or rhymes that aren’t silly. It’s Liam that brings him down, even when he’s not helping. Louis just likes him there. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Liam asks, when Louis has been staring off into space for a while.

Louis jerks, and he grins, winking over at him. “You,” he teases, and it looks for a second like Liam’s cheeks darken in the still-fading sun, but--Louis shrugs it off. He’s kind of given up hope, at this point. 

It doesn’t help that Liam’s all but given up on writing another love song; all Louis can think are rambling words about the curve of a smile and a lifelong love, and Liam won’t hear it. 

(Harry thinks he’s a melodramatic fucker, and maybe (probably) he is. It’s all Liam’s fault, really.) 

*

The bus, sometimes, is loud as shit. 

Louis is in his bunk, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. Zayn’s snoring to the side of him, and Harry’s giggling about something, probably talking to Nick again. It’s the middle of the night. Two, Louis thinks, but he could be wrong about that; they’re crossing timezones so often lately it’s a wonder he remembers what day it is. 

His phone buzzes, and he frowns, looking at it. It’s from Liam, just says, you awake?

Louis smiles, and he sits up without texting back, whispering, “Yeah,” into the dark. 

“Great,” Liam says in a normal voice, and there’s a thump as he drops to the ground. “Been meaning to talk to you.”

Louis frowns, and follows him into one of the common areas, curling up on a pile of blankets. “Yeah?”

“I’ve got a beat and I can’t think of any words to go with it,” Liam says, in the voice of the dead tired, and he starts humming, keeping the beat by tapping his leg. 

Louis grins, nodding his head along with it, and he says, “I like it.”

“But there’s no song,” Liam says, a little desperate. He flops down next to Louis, draping his legs over him. “It’s just, like, notes.”

“Well, what does it make you think of?” Louis asks, reaching out to squeeze Liam’s arm, pull him in for a proper cuddle. “Start there and work backwards.”

Liam shrugs. “Sounds like another love song,” he says, spitting out the words. 

Louis frowns. “What is your deal with romance lately?”

“Dunno,” Liam says. “Just sick of it, y’know?”

Louis nods, though he doesn’t, really. He kisses the side of Liam’s head. 

Liam stiffens, pulling away like he hasn’t since X-Factor. 

Louis frowns. “Hey.” It comes out a little harsh, but it’s the middle of the night and all Louis wants is a cuddle, damn it. 

Liam goes still. “Yeah?”

“Talk to me,” Louis says. “Come on.” He uses the voice he knows gets Liam to listen to him, even when he’s being all angry and sad. 

Liam sighs out, long, and lies back against the blankets. 

Louis looks at him, waiting absolutely patiently. 

Liam closes his eyes. 

“What’s up?” Louis asks. (He’s perhaps not the most patient person in the world, sue him.) 

Liam closes his eyes. “‘m an idiot.”

“Yep,” Louis says. “What’s new?” 

He means it as a joke, really he does, but Liam’s face does the awful pinchy thing and his heart drops into his stomach.

“Babe,” he says, frowning. “Teasing, come on.”

“I know,” Liam says, sighing. “I just.” He looks over at Louis. “I did something really, really stupid.”

Louis just waits; this feels significant, middle-of-the-night news that might not be the best idea. He looks properly at him, and he has to (again) resist the urge to kiss Liam breathless. 

Liam rubs his face, mumbling something. 

“Sorry?” Louis offers, frowning. “Didn’t catch that, love.”

Liam moves his hand, and he’s staring resolutely at the ceiling. “I fancy you,” he mumbles. 

Louis’ entire world shifts, a little. 

He looks at Liam, eyes wide. “What?”

Liam sits up, and they’re abruptly not touching at all. “I fancy you,” and he says it like he used to tell them about bullies, like he talked about his sixteenth birthday party. “I’m sorry, I just do.”

Louis is smiling, can’t help himself. “Why would you go and do a silly thing like that?” he asks, but he’s laughing, a little. “Fuck,” he says, and he grabs Liam’s arm, turns him to face him properly. “I fancy you too, you absolute idiot.”

Liam’s face does a lot of complicated things in about five seconds, but the most significant is the relief that totally floods it. “Lou?”

Louis nods, and he pulls Liam in for a kiss, hard and a little desperate. Generally he tries to be smoother, have more game, but this is Liam and Louis has been more than a little in love with him for years. 

And--hey, that’s something. Louis pulls back, frowning. “Are you telling me you didn’t want to write a love song because you were pining over me?”

Liam doesn’t say anything, but he does turn a very interesting shade of pink and look up at the ceiling, because he’s a bloody idiot who can’t lie for anything. 

God, Louis is so in love with him. 

“So now,” Louis says, tugging Liam back down so they can really cuddle, Louis half on top of him, “we can write all of the horribly cheesy lyrics we want, yeah?”

Liam huffs out a laugh, rubbing his back. “Yeah,” he says, and he sounds a little surprised, which. Is interesting. 

“I really thought you knew I fancied you,” Louis says, shaking his head, “and that you were just, like, ignoring it.”

Liam snorts. “Nope,” he says. “Been pining desperately for ages, it’s been terrible.”

“We’ll have to make up for it,” Louis says, kissing his collarbone. He hides his smile against his skin, which he knows doesn’t do much because Liam can feel it, but. 

“Yeah,” Liam says, and without warning moves them so that he’s hovering over Louis, grinning down at him, wide. “Guess we will,” and he kisses Louis hard, moaning softly into his mouth. 

Louis giggles, a sound that’s quickly swallowed by Liam. He wraps his arms around him, and sinks back into the blankets.


End file.
